


Rise of the Phoenix: From the Ashes

by Tyler743



Series: Rise of the Phoenix [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Adult Damian Wayne, Ancient Egypt, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Bi-Curiosity, Comedy, Damian Wayne-centric, Explicit Language, F/M, Graphic Description, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Lost Love, M/M, Sequel, Sexual Assault, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18323375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyler743/pseuds/Tyler743
Summary: It's been nearly five years since he had last stepped foot in Gotham, but Damian has not forgotten the events that pushed him out.Now living in London, England, he goes by the persona of Phoenix, and is still trying to track down his corrupt aunt who has seemed to have vanished all together.When his adoptive brother, Jason Todd, show's up one evening, the two young men decide to work together to once and for all crack the secrets of the Krv Amyh-Pa, avenge Stephanie and save life as they know it before its too late.





	1. Prologue

Walking alone late at night was never a good idea, especially in a big city, especially for a woman. But weekends were a time to unwind, a time to go out with your friends and have fun on the town; of course the consumption of alcohol was usually on the agenda, especially for spry university students. Of course, evenings never really end how people intend them too, and for one young woman who had separated from her friends to leave the party early, it couldn’t have gone more horrible.

Her alcohol level’s must have been high as she could not walk straight down the desolate street of London England, the straps of her heels coiled around one wrist. She was humming to herself an upbeat tune that sounded like it had been one she had heard from the club; perhaps she was doing it to comfort herself from the solitude around her, or perhaps she was just too corked to even realize she was doing it.

She was dressed in a tight, leather dress that showed far too much of her ebony skin than should have been appropriate for the November temperature, but she didn’t seem to mind, and luckily she was at least wearing a denim jacket to at least cover her arms.

Her curly hair that was cut into a large fro around her head quivered in the wind; maybe it was because of the sound in her ears that she was unaware of the man coming up fast behind her, maybe it was because she was drunk, or maybe she was just oblivious. Whatever the reason, it happened fast, almost too fast.

In one moment he had grabbed her arm and threw her to the side so that they were hidden in the shadows of an ally. Pressing her hard to the brick wall of the building, her head snapped back against it, cracking loudly and for a moment she saw stars.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she tried to yell, confused panic rising in her voice, but her words were slurred together and the man plunged his hand under her dress, his fingers roughly pushing past her underwear and diving deep within her.

She screamed and began to hit at him, hard, her body trying with all its might to twist free from him. “STOP! GET OFF!”

With his other forearm, he rammed it into her collarbone, shoving her back to the wall again as hard as he could before pulling his fingers out of her and lifting them up to his mouth, sucking lightly on them.

“Already wet for me,” he sneered lowly. She began to sob heavily as he leaned closer to her, his face hidden by a dark hood that cast his features in even more shadows than the ally already provided. “You one of those kinky types? Does this turn you on?”

“Please, don’t do this...” She pleaded, all of the alcohol in her system seeming to disappear from the fear. Her body trembled beneath him as she continued to try and worm her way free, but she was weak and it was no use.

Smiling, he reached down and unzipped his dark jeans, pulling himself out quickly; he was already hard and ready to go. As he pushed her dress up to her hips and his length hit her thigh, she groaned and hawked back, spitting roughly into his face.

“Get the fuck off me!”

Quickly, he reached up and wiped his face with his hand. “You stupid slut!” his deep voice hissed and brought his arm back, punching her square in the face. Again, her head snapped back, this time hitting the brick so violently she fell forward slightly into him, her consciousness slipping.

Before he had time to further assault her however, a small, jagged blade came flying from the shadows of the ally, lodging itself deep within the man’s shoulder. He let out a cry and immediately backed away from her, both of his arms reaching behind him to try and pull the weapon from his skin. The woman began to fall forward, but like a bolt of lightning a figure, cloaked in a dark cape appeared in front of her, catching her body and gently resting her on the ground.

The man pulled the knife from his back and again screamed loudly, his eyes narrowing at the figure until it slowly turned around to face him, then his expression fell to full out horror. Although the figures face was hidden by the cape’s hood, the cape parted open at the center of its body, allowing a bright red and gold armoured suit to be shine through. It was a man.

“Shit, it’s you...” the assaulter mumbled, dropping the knife on the ground and quickly shoving himself back into his pants. As he pulled the zipper up, he took a step backwards. “I didn’t think you were real...”

The cloaked figure said nothing and instead reached into his cape and unsheathed a long, pointed katana. The other man backed himself up to the opposite building, pressing himself hard into it as though the stone would swallow him if he did so.

“I’m sorry!” he yelled at him, his voice shaking slightly. “I’m sorry! Look I won’t do it again! I swear it!”  
Without waiting another second, the figured sprung forward and sliced the katana swiftly at the man’s lap. He screamed, dropping down to the ground, blood pooling around his groin.

“You’re right,” the voice that came from beneath the hood of the figure was deep, stoic and calm. “You _won’t_ do it again.”

He pressed his katana back into its sheath as the man sobbed erratically, fumbling to unzip his pants. Turning quickly on his heels he walked over to the young woman who was barely awake on the ground, small moans escaping from the back of her throat.

“My fucking cock!” He could hear the man cry from behind him. “ _You cut my fucking cock off..._ ”

Ignoring him, the clocked man helped the girl into a sitting position, her dark eyes slowly batted open.

“Are you alright?” he asked her quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. It took her a few minutes to register that he was talking to her before she nodded, but then upon hearing the sobs from her attacker she looked around him, panic filling her eyes. The clocked figure pushed her body back, motioning for her not to look.

“Ignore him, you’re safe now, that’s all that matters.” He assured her. She looked at him, her eyes wide.

“You’re him aren’t you?” her voice was a whisper, filled with an emotion he could not identify. “The Phoenix?”

The Phoenix, a ruthless vigilante who had surfaced in London nearly five years prior out of, what seemed to be thin air; no one knew where he came from, no one knew why he had come, and no one knew who he was. He had saved enough people now however to gain some respect within the community, though his methods of protection were usually unethical, but never resulted in death.

A pause before he raised his head slightly, the bottom half of his face now slightly visible in the dim light; olive skin, a strong, defined jaw line, and just the bottom of a red mask covering his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything for her to know the answer.

“Is there anywhere I can take you?” he asked after a moment, completely brushing aside her question.

She gave him her address, a small apartment not far from where they were, but he accompanied her there nonetheless, quickly calling the police before leaving the perpetrator alone in the ally.

“Thank you for saving me,” she said when they arrived at her front door. Her speech was still slightly slurred, but he knew she meant it. “If you hadn’t of come, he would have-”

“Be more careful from now on.” He cut her off, turning on his heels away from her. “There are some sick people out there.”

Before she had time to say anything more, he pulled a grapple from under his cloak and shot it upward to the building tops, and in a second he was gone into the shadows where he had come from. She stood there, her hazy eyes searching the darkness for movement, but there was none, he had completely disappeared.

The door to her apartment opened and two other women spilled outside, relief wafting off of them.

“Thank God, Ally, where the hell were you?” one of them said, throwing her arms around the dark skinned girl.

“You left the bar before us, we were worried sick!” the other said, joining the hug. She quickly pushed them away and turned her attention back to the sky above. The other two curiously followed her gaze.

“You’re never going to believe what just happened...”


	2. Chapter 2

_You taught me the courage of the **stars** before you left_  
_How light carries on endlessly, even after **death**..._

  
_**~ saturn, sleeping at last**_

*************

 

It was a chilly morning in Brixton, London, and when the door to a small coffee shop opened, sounding the shopkeeper’s bell, a burst of cool air swept in, causing the few people who were gathered inside to shiver.

The young man who walked through the doors was bundled up in a long gray overcoat that fell below his knees and a red scarf that was wrapped tightly around his neck and lower face, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his arms pressed tightly to his body as though it would keep him warm. His dark hair was buzzed on the sides to a medium buzz cut, but the top was slightly longer and flopped to one side of his forehead messily; perhaps from the wind.

Damian Wayne was his name, son of world renowned billionaire Bruce Wayne, though he had long since put that part of his life behind him. He went by Grayson now, the surname of his adoptive older brother and perhaps the only person he truly missed from his old home of Gotham City.

The barista, a young girl with almond shaped eyes and pixie black hair looked up at him and smiled, a soft blush gracing her cheeks.

As Damian approached she quickly turned around and picked up a brown paper bag that was sitting on the counter behind her. Just like clockwork every morning, he would come and order the same thing, she had learned this and began to prepare ahead of time.

“One black coffee and a poppy seed muffin with butter, for take away.” She said softly, her eyes shifting away from him as he pulled the scarf from covering the bottom half of his face. He smiled slightly, his tired green eyes looking at first from the bag, to her face.

Plunging his hand into his pocket he pulled out change and began to place it on the counter, but she threw her hands out, shaking her head.

“No, please! It’s on the house today.”

Again his eyes looked up at her.

“Nonsense.” His voice was gentle as he tried once again to put the money down, but she again shook her head.

“It’s the least I can do for our most loyal customer. Just this once, _please_.”

The young man eyed her for a moment but knew too well that she would not take no for an answer, so he put the change back into his pocket and reached for the paper bag.

“Well, you do make the best muffins in London.” He said with a smile, causing the girls whole face to turn bright red. He nodded at her and turned towards the door. “Give my compliments to the chef.”

“Thank yo... I mean, I will! See you tomorrow!”

Pulling his scarf up over his chin Damian went outside, the thick cold air hitting him. As quickly as he could he turned the corner, rushing through the slow moving cars of the street to the other side and up the steps up a narrow apartment building. Lifting his hand from his pocket and quickly typing in the code that would allow him in, the man leaned into the door and pushed it open, entering a small empty hallway. Jogging up another set of stairs inside, he reached the second floor and turned to the door that read 202.

Quickly he unlocked it and fled inside sighing deeply and kicking off his shoes. The apartment was small; the door opened into a living room/dining area with a small kitchen off to the side. On the far end of the living room portion were two doors, one leading to the bedroom and the other to the bath. The furniture was bare minimum; a small glass kitchen table, a dark sofa, TV and stand, and a desk that was scattered with books and papers. That was it, it was clear he was not a material man.

Placing the bag on the kitchen table, he opened it and dug out the muffin and the coffee, stuffing half of the sweet into his mouth before he walked over to the couch and plopped down on it, once again sighing.

Damian swallowed his bite of muffin and leaned his head on the back of the couch, staring up at the white ceiling above him. The room was silent save for the sound of cars whizzing past outside; the sound of solitude was making him even more tired that he already was.

Without moving his head, he lifted the coffee cup to his lips and sipped at it, the bitter liquid warming his throat and the inside of his chest.

He never used to be tired when he was younger; he could go forever on little to no sleep. Hell, he should have been able to go forever now; he was only twenty one years old, but his mind constantly felt exhausted and his body felt as though it was slowing down, maybe he was pushing himself too hard every night as Phoenix, maybe he was bored from doing nothing during the days, maybe he was lonely.

Scoffing at his own thoughts he took another sip of coffee, the muffin in his other hand rolling out of him palm and onto the seat of the couch. He paid it no mind; his apartment was in dire need of a good cleaning anyhow, a few loose crumbs wouldn’t change anything.

Allowing his eyes to drift close, Damian’s thoughts wondered far from his quiet living room, far from London even. He thought about the family that he left back in Gotham; his father, his dog, Alfred, Dick.

Dick had a child now, and though the brunette had no idea what gender it was, he knew that it had to be spoiled rotten. Dick Grayson was the kind of person to become wrapped around his offspring’s finger; as much as he tried to act dominant it was clear that it would be Kor’i who would wear the pants in the family.

It bothered Damian slightly that he had never gotten the chance to see the little one, he would have liked to meet her or him at least once, but going back to Gotham was out of the question for the time being. Neferti, his mother’s sister, his aunt and the woman who was trying to convince him to initiate a doomsday clock for the entire world was still running free, somewhere. He could not risk putting anyone in danger, and if he were to return to where the rest of his family were residing, he would be doing exactly that. Neferti was unstable, and she didn’t care who she hurt in order to get what she wanted. Damian had learned that the hard way.

Brushing the muffin off of the couch and onto the floor, Damian set his coffee down and lay sideways across the couch, his dark hair falling off of his forehead. Thinking about Gotham always led to thinking about her, someone he both wished he could forget but at the same time was terrified to. Stephanie Brown.

He had met her five years prior when he had made the decision to leave the Titan’s Tower and return to his father’s mansion, only to find out that Bruce hadn’t hesitated finding someone to fill in for the miniature caped crusader. Stephanie was the newbie’s girlfriend, and although he couldn’t stand her at first, the two ended up giving everything they had to one another, so much so that Damian had believed they would be together forever. But if fate existed...it had other plans, and during their last confrontation with Neferti, Stephanie had fallen.

The fear in her hazel eyes, the way her lips parted as though she wished to say something, the sound of the glass screaming as it shattered around her, allowing her to fall to her death; Damian could remember it all as though it had been yesterday. The memory haunted him, never once letting him forget the utter horror he had felt in that one moment, though the positive things that he had loved like her laugh and her voice were now a distant whisper, almost barely recognizable in his mind.

It was cruel that life worked in that way, Damian wished it didn’t. But as much as he tried to forget and push the images from his mind, the reminder of her demise continuously loomed over him, rising in the form of horrible, vivid nightmares, the scene playing again and again, and each time he was just as useless as the last. Standing there, still as a statue, watching her fall when he could have tried something sooner. Perhaps that was why he had returned to the life of a crime fighter. If he was protecting the city all night, sleep was avoidable, and so were his ephialtes.

But with the lack of sleep came immense fatigue and Damian found himself falling into a daily pattern of on again off again hypnagogia; he was never really asleep but not quite awake either. In fact, the only time he did fully indulge in slumber was after he would drown himself in alcohol, which he made sure to keep a copious supply ready if need be.  
When he drank before bed, his sleep would be so deep that he didn’t have to worry about dreaming, he only had to worry about the next morning, and that wasn’t a bother. Coffee usually helped.

Twisting around in his spot so that he was now laying on his side, Damian stared blankly at the room ahead of him, his mind finding it difficult to focus on much other than the small amount of furniture.

So far, coming here had been useless. He was no closer to finding Neferti than he had been five years ago, and really he was unsure of where to go from there. Every single tidbit of information he had managed to find, which hadn’t been much, lead to nothing but solid dead ends. His hope was dwindling.

But he wouldn’t give it up.

 

*******

 

“Here you go love,” a middle aged, pudgy bartender said as she placed the thick glass of scotch down in front of Damian. She winked at him as he picked it up, his green eyes shifting down to the amber liquid that sat below a layer of ice cubes. “Scotch on the rocks, just the way you like it.”

The brunette nodded at her before she turned around and headed back over to a small sink, starting her work at polishing more glasses.

This was his normal go to place on his “night off”; he made sure to give himself a short break from being the Phoenix every Saturday night as to not wear himself down completely to the ground, and this bar was perfect. Unlike most of the other establishments in Brixton, this one wasn’t crowded by university students or young bumpers trying to find a little party. This bar was quiet, held an older, more sophisticated crowd, played classical jazz instead of the latest pop sensations, and the dim lighting comforted Damian’s weary mind.  
Yes it was the perfect place to go to unwind for a night and have a few drinks so that he could, hopefully, have a decent sleep upon arriving home. That was the idea anyhow.

Raising the glass to his lips, Damian tilted it back and allowed the earthy liquor to bite its way across his tongue and down his throat, the ice cubes clinking together at the movement. Pulling his lips back after a satisfying gulp, he slapped the glass down on the counter, coughing out one shuddery exhale as though the drink had been too much. He didn’t necessarily liked scotch, but it did the trick in making him drunk, and it did give him the feeling of being refined.

Allowing the music to take him away from the present, Damian’s focus fell away into oblivion causing him to stare blankly ahead at the coloured bottle of alcohol that sat on the bars shelves. In the background, he could hear the other customers chatting among themselves, talking about their week, local gossip, their jobs. It had been so long since he had genuinely sat down and spoke to another being like that, and although he didn’t necessarily miss it, sometimes he did long for the communication. Perhaps we would invest in a pet, at least then he would have someone to talk to at home.

He took another drink, this time taking as much of the scotch as possible into his mouth, swallowing roughly. Out of his peripherals he saw someone sit beside him at the bar counter, their face covered by a hood. He didn’t like people sitting so close to him, it made him anxious.

Placing the glass back down, he shifted in his seat, his green eyes watching as the man held up two fingers, beckoning the bartender over. She quickly came.

“What can I get you, handsome?” her accent was strong and harsh against the classical piano that was playing. The man said something quietly, so quietly that Damian could not hear him, but the bartender seemed to as she waddled to the bottles and began mixing a drink. The hooded man reached forward to a small tin that held numerous toothpicks and picked one out with his rough, calloused hands, plopping it into his mouth which was still hidden from sight. A moment later the woman reappeared and placed a colourful cocktail down in front of him, in which he nodded and took it in both hands but did not move it from the counter. The toothpick flicked from side to side, he must have been moving it in his mouth; Damian got a weird vibe. God, London was full of weirdos, and that was coming from someone who had lived in Gotham.

Throwing the rest of his drink back, the brunette quickly finished it off, wiping the small amount of water that the melting ice cubes had left on his upper lip. He was bitter that he was being compelled to leave after only one drink, but he supposed he did have alcohol waiting for him back at his apartment and could hold off until then, though the small crowd of the bar gave him the slight pleasure of not being completely alone.

Quickly placing his cash on the counter, he stood from his stool and took a few steps towards the door, buttoning his overcoat as he went. A low, familiar voice dragged him to a stop however and his whole body tensed.

“Leaving without even saying hi. _That’s rude_.”

Turning slowly in his spot, Damian started at the hooded man who was still hunched over his drink. His heart began to beat fast, his palms grew sweaty. He knew that voice anywhere, though he hadn’t heard it in years.

His feet moved on their own, taking him back to his own stool and he sat down, leaning one forearm on the bars counter, staring wide eyed at the figure who was still playing with the toothpick. They both sat there for a moment in silence, each of them waiting for the other to say something before the man finally pivoted his body towards the brunette, his hands reaching up to throw back his hood.

Jet black hair that was jelled off of his forehead, piercing blue eyes and lips were pulled into a smirk that caused Damian’s chest to fill with both shock and relief. It was a strange feeling to see Jason Todd again after all of this time. It had been almost five years, and even though he was never extremely close to his second oldest brother, seeing his face brought him a strange sense of home. Like Damian however, time and crime fighting had taken its toll on the older batboy, and though he still looked fairly young for a thirty one year old, he had defined wrinkles underneath his eyes.

Jason pursed his lips to the side, taking the toothpick out from between his lips and replacing it with the straw of his drink, sucking it back quickly.

“What in the hell are you doing here, Todd?” Damian gasped, still in utter disbelief. No one had been aware of where he was going five years ago, no one. He hadn’t told anyone, he hadn’t dropped any hints or contacted anyone since. He had just up and left. How in the name of God, did Jason out of anyone manage to find him, and why? He wasn’t angry, just confused.

Jason chuckled and popped the straw from between his lips, placing his glass down and tilting his head to the side.

“Didn’t you know?” he asked nonchalantly. “This joints ‘Sex on the Beach’ is world famous! I just had to come and try one for myself.”

“ _How did you find me_?” Damian shot, ignoring his irritating game. He had been in his presence for all of one minute and he was already wearing thin.

“You think Bruce is the only one with fancy toys and tricks up his sleeve, Baby-bat? I have ways of knowing things, especially how to find people. That’s all you need to know.”

“Does father know I’m here?”

Jason snorted out a laugh. “Hell if I know. I’ve been officially cast out of the family. Thrown from the nest, if you will; I haven’t talked to Bruce in...hell, _months_.”

“Is that why you decided to fly all the way here to find me?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow and causing Jason to shrug his shoulders.

“Nah, Gotham was just getting old. I needed something new in my life and I figured, hey, why not reconnect with my favorite little psycho.” He smiled. “How have you been Damian? You look...well, you look like you’re...existing.”

The corner of Damian’s lip pulled up into a half smirk. “You could call it that I guess.” He agreed quietly. “I’ve been fine. Tired, but fine.”

Jason plucked the straw from his drink and instead threw back the entirety of it, drinking it all down in two large gulps. He pulled away with satisfying smack of his lips and put the glass down with a loud clink.

“What have you been up to other than coming to this snooze fest? Throwing the wads of cash that I’m sure Bruce still puts into your account around? Got a nice house? Nice car? Sexy as fuck lady friends? Spill it kid, what’s the dealio?”

Swallowing Damian shook his head, his eyes shifting down. “This is it.” He lied. He didn’t know why he couldn’t bring himself to tell Jason about Phoenix, if he was planning on staying he would find out pretty quickly; Damian sincerely hoped he wasn’t planning on staying though. “I come here once a week. I live in a one bedroom flat about a block away. No car, no lady friends. Though, you’re right about one thing, father does still put money into my account.”

Jason made a face and crossed his arms over his chest. “I really shouldn’t be surprised, you were always a dud.”

Damian shrugged. His life really wasn’t exciting, he had no argument there.

“How is everyone back home?” he asked after a few seconds, deciding to change the subject. Jason gave him another look.

“What part of cast out don’t _you_ understand?” he said with a chuckle, but then shook his head. “I still talk to Dickie a little bit, but only to see how his little monster is doing. She’s pretty goddamn cute, hell of a temper though. Gonna be trouble when she’s a teenager, I’ll tell you that.”

“So they had a girl?” Damian smiled at the thought. A little girl, perhaps with flaming red hair and bright blue eyes; he’d bet anything that she was adorable.

Jason smiled as well. “Yeah, but don’t tell him I told you that, he’d kill me to know I cracked that open for you. Act surprised if you ever see her.”

“I doubt that will happen anytime soon. I have no interest in returning to Gotham.”

“Probably the best call, looks like you’re already living the life here. Why leave?” The sarcasm that dripped from Jason’s tongue made Damian scowl and he looked away. Jason noticed the change in his demeanor right away. “I kid, baby-bat. I kid.”

Tilting his glass and looking into it, the other man’s lips pulled back into a frown upon seeing that it was empty.

“I’ve run dry, and I don’t really want to spend any more money at this joint. You pick the most expensive pub in the country to drown your sorrows, and unfortunately Bruce isn’t filling my wallet.” He said while taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one. Damian looked at him as he put it into his mouth and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke into the room around him.

“I wonder why.” The younger party said dryly, but a small smile tugged at his mouth. Jason smirked and wiped his mouth with his hand before holding the cigarette out to the brunette. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly accepting it.

He had never smoked before; he had never felt the need to. But with all of the stress in his life currently what could it hurt? Besides, he didn’t care enough about his own life to worry about the consequences.

Putting the filtered end between his lips, Damian sucked inward, but immediately pulled it away from his mouth, turning his face into his elbow and falling into a coughing fit. Jason laughed and took the smoke back, taking another puff.

“That’s vile...”Damain said between coughs, narrowing his eyes at the cigarette between Jason’s teeth. Jason laughed again.

“This is what’s kept me sane all these years. You get used to it.”

“No thank you.”

“Suit yourself.”

The two fell silent for a moment and looked out into the room around them. More people had gathered since Damian had first come, and that hadn’t been long ago, but they were still all much older than the two former Robin’s. Damian didn’t mind this of course, it meant that he didn’t have to worry about someone trying to coerce him into conversation, he had gone to other establishments before with younger crowds and he always found himself fighting off intoxicated, lustful young women and sometimes men. Not exactly something he wished to be doing on his nights off. But of course, Jason was a very different person. Too different.

“What do you say we get out of here and go find ourselves some lonely, beautiful damsels in need of two suave, wealthy gentlemen?” he purred, jumping to his feet and zipping up his black flight jacket.

Damian stood as well and gave him a look. “I thought you didn’t have any money. Now you’re a rich gentleman?”

“ _You_ are!” Jason chimed, poking him in the chest before pulling out his wallet and taking out the money for his drink. “And if one of us is, we both are! Now let’s go find somewhere more happening, the only thing we're gonna pick up in here is a lung infection from breathing in the dust these walking fossils are admitting.”

Damian rolled his eyes and began to walk towards the door; he could hear Jason right behind him.

“I’m not really in the mood to mingle tonight...or any night for that matter. I’m going home.”

Feeling a hand clamp over his shoulder and pull him slightly, the brunette looked over his shoulder at the pouting thirty year old behind him, noticing for the first time that they now stood at eye level with one another.

“You’re breaking my heart,” Jason wined as Damian nudged roughly out of his grip and pulled the door open, stepping out into the cold outdoors. It was snowing lightly, but just enough to cause the kind of bitter chill that flew right through you, freezing your bones. “I came all this way to have a good time with you, and all you want to do is go to your apartment. You won’t even have one drink with your big brother?”

“If it’s alcohol you want, I have plenty at my apartment. And don’t worry...I don’t charge much.”

 

***************

 

If Damian had known that all it would take to stop Jason Todd to stop sputtering nonsense for more than five minutes was to offer his booze, he would have done it a long time ago.

He had brought him back to his apartment, and of course at first the older man couldn’t stop talking about how “billionaire Damian Wayne” had now stooped to living in what he described as “squalor”. It was hardly that however, and if he thought it was he obviously had not seen Stephanie Brown’s apartment in Gotham. But once he had poured him a glass of wine, which turned into two, which of course quickly became three, their conversation mellowed and became, probably the first satisfactory conversation the two had ever had with one another.

They exchanged stories of the last five years, Damian finally told him about his night time alter ego, Phoenix and how he was still trying to find Neferti. They talked about Bruce, and Tim and Dick, but never once did they bring up Stephanie or the events at the museum. Damian was unsure if Jason felt awkward to bring it up or just didn’t care.

Upon his fourth glass of wine, Jason stood up from his seat at the small kitchen table, wobbling slightly as he staggered over to the small desk in Damian’s living room, looking down at the papers there. The green eyed man watched him through clouded vision, sipping at his glass.

“This all you found?” he questioned, squinting his eyes as he tried to read one of the sheets. It was all information on the Krv Amyh-Pa, on Farafra and Egyptian folklore. Damian nodded even though his predecessor was not looking at him.

“Yeah. I’ve been to achieves, libraries, searched online. There’s very little on the Krv Amyh-Pa that I can find.”

“Hm,” Jason pursed his lips and fell to the side a bit, catching himself on the desk. “Maybe she’s _dead_. I mean, think about it.” He turned slowly to face the younger man, but remained there in his spot, palm pressed to the wood for support. “It’s been five years, and you haven’t heard boo. You might be wasting your time, mini me.”

Ignoring the horribly incorrect nickname, Damian tipped his wine glass back all of the way and finished it off before once again shaking his head, a slight bit of his fringe falling onto his forehead.

“She’s alive.” He assured him in a low, slowly drawn voice. “I can feel it.”

Jason snorted. “Oh you can feel it.” He nodded his head, his tone sounding as though he were going to continue but he didn’t, instead he started towards Damian's bedroom, disappearing behind the door. Damian’s dark eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

“Todd!” he called after him. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I just want to see your new fancy uniform! It’s in your closet right?”

“I don’t know where else it would be.”

He listen to Jason bumbling around in his bedroom, knocking things over, opening the closet door a little too aggressively, rummaging through the hangers. For a moment he considered going in to help him so that he wouldn’t hurt himself, but before he could get up Jason appeared at the door with a wicked smile spread across his lips. Damian’s heart dropped at the garment he held up with his hand.

“So, you didn’t bring your Robin suit...but you brought _this_ thing?” Jason chuckled, waving the black and purple spandex suit, high above his head. It was clearly a woman’s uniform, equipped with a poorly sewn, golden bat across the breast area. “Something you aren’t telling me?”

Damian jumped to his feet and rushed over to Jason, tripping over himself slightly as he grabbed it from his hand and yanked it away angrily.

“ _Give me that_!” he barked. Jason pulled his hand away and frowned.

“Jesus, aggressive.” He mumbled, watching Damian walk to the other side of the room, clutching the uniform in his arms. “I’m not one to judge anyone for anything...but I never pegged you as the cross dressing type.”

The room fell silent and after a moment Jason’s smirk faltered. Damian swallowed and in the tiniest of voices he spoke.

“It was Stephanie’s...”

“Oh...”

The apartment suddenly became thick with uneasiness. It was clear that the sudden sight of the uniform had caused Damian to become upset, Jason almost felt bad for prodding him about it.

“Er...”Jason’s intoxicated mind tried its best to think of something to say. “I didn’t know Bruce had initiated her into the Bat club.” That was the best he had.

  
Damian shook his head. “He didn’t. She...made it herself.” He corrected, his voice still quiet. Jason laughed slightly, but it did not come from humour. Instead, it came from a low, sympathetic place.

“Should have known I guess. Only Stephanie Brown would be capable of making something so-”

“Homely.” Damian finished his sentence, and despite his voice remaining stoic, it was clear that the jab had come from somewhere light. Again Jason laughed.

“You said it. Not me.”

A breathy scoff came out from the back of Damian’s throat, and he walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and folding Stephanie’s uniform in half on his lap. He looked down at it.

“Yeah well...it doesn’t matter who said it does it? It’s not like it can offend her. _She’s dead_.”

Jason said nothing. He suddenly felt much more sober than he had a moment ago, probably due to the seriousness of the situation.

“I don’t even know why I brought it. It’s just garbage.” Damian continued, more to himself than to anyone else. It was true; out of anything he could have brought from the Wayne manor all those years ago, why had he brought this? Why had he not been able to bring himself to leave that morning without packing something of Stephanie’s? And why her suit, of all things? “I guess I just wanted something...of hers...”

“Well...there goes the mood...” Jason sighed deeply and stumbled his way over to the couch, plopping down roughly beside his younger counterpart. He looked at Damian and nudged him with his elbow, smiling ever so slightly. “The nights young! Let’s get out of here and go have some fun.”

The brunettes green orbs shifted towards him, narrowing ever so slightly. “I told you earlier I don’t want to go out. Why do you think now, of all times, I would change my mind?”

  
“It’s not about if you want to or not. _You should_.”

“And why is that?” Damian asked, his top lip curling slightly. Jason shrugged.

“Because, you just went all Shakespeare on me. We need to brighten things up a bit. Look, we’re already drunk, let’s go find some party, paint the town, get your mind off all of this.”

Damian said nothing and looked away. If he didn’t have interest in going out earlier, he had even less now. His vision was hazy, and his mind couldn’t focus, and he was feeling depressed.

His thumb brushed the fabric of the uniform on his lap, and his heart pinged with ache, he was very depressed. So much so, that he didn’t even really want to be talking to Jason anymore; all he wanted to do was go to bed.

After a few minutes Jason sighed and crossed his legs, the heel of his foot kicking Damian’s leg accidentally, causing him to look at him, irritation pooling in his droopy eyes. Jason leaned his head to the side, his deep eyes drunkenly gazing at the younger being.

“How longs it been since you’ve been laid?” he asked, his face serious. Damian stared blankly at him for a moment, his mind unable to process the question.

“Excuse me?”

“ _Sex_.” Jason blurted, his hands involuntarily motioning at his own groin. “When’s the last time you dipped your wick?”

Immediately Damian’s face flushed bright red and he looked away.

“Could you be anymore crass...” he hissed. Jason leaned away from the back of the couch, uncrossing his legs.

“Serious question! Please don’t tell me it was Stephanie...”

In a moment, the young Wayne was pulled back in time, five years ago. Despite the shortness of their relationship, he and Stephanie had been very intimate, and it was special. The touch of her body against his, her smell, her taste, her sounds; he could remember everything and God...he missed it. About a year after he had moved to London he had decided to give in to his aching need for human connection again, and found himself in bed with a different woman almost every week. It had done absolutely nothing for him however, and instead had made him even lonelier than he already was. Soon it became an occasional thing, to lie with the odd persistent bar goer, and eventually dwindled to nothing. It had been years since he had had sex; did he miss it? Of course, who wouldn’t? Did he want to have it? Not necessarily. No one felt right to him, and he doubt they ever would.

When Damian said nothing Jason groaned. “Fuck...it was...”

“I’ve...been with other women.”

Slapping his hand over his heart, the blue eyed man nodded. “You scared the shit out of me! That’s good, that normal. So when was the last time?”

Damian swallowed roughly, almost afraid to give him an answer. “Two...years ago.”

Jason choked, on what, Damian had no idea. “Alright, take back what I just said. What is wrong with you? _Two years_!?” he was shouting now. Unfortunately the walls in the apartment were thin; the neighbours probably had so many questions at this point. “What are you celibate? Did you join some weird...English cult?”

Shushing him, Damian spoke quietly. “I just haven’t had the desire. It’s not the same.”

Jason stood too quickly and fell slightly, tripping over his own feet before catching himself and standing straight, looking down at the boy. “Damian...listen.”

Things that started with listen were never good. Ever.

“You need to let Stephanie go, okay? I know you loved her in your own weird little way...but it’s been five years! You’re what, twenty one? Twenty two? You are in the prime of your youth and you’re wasting your life away, alone in this shitty apartment or your dingy little senior center. Put that thing away and get up! We’re going out!”

He had no idea what possessed him to listen to the older ex-Robin, but Damian sighed and stood up.

“And where exactly are we going?”

Jason smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

The door to the younger crowded pub opened, and the loud blaring music and sound of chattering young adults washed out like a tsunami. Damian followed Jason inside, but almost immediately wished he was back at his apartment, in the comfort of his own bed; he could already tell that this was going to be a mistake.

Upon entering the suddenly warmer atmosphere, Jason’s shoulders began to bob to the music as they walked through the crowd towards the bar.

“See D, this is more like it.” He loudly over his shoulder at the younger man.

“Aren’t you a little old to be a part of this scene, Todd?” Damian shot back. They made it to the counter of the bar and Jason leaned on arm on the wood, giving him a look.

“In what world is thirty one old?” he asked, his voice nothing but offended. Quickly he waved over the bartender who was just finishing up with another customer. “Besides, age is just a number baby, so grab a drink and get comfy, because you’re about to be schooled.”

The bartender, a burly man with dark facial hair approached them, his beady eyes looking at Jason with an irritated gleam; clearly he was tired from work already.

“What can I get you?” he asked in a deep voice.

“Two rum and cokes please.” Jason answered with a smile. The man grunted a response and turned around to make them. “Didn’t want to order anything too crazy, since we already had all that wine.”

“This is ridiculous. I don’t need anything else to drink; water would have been fine.”

Jason snorted out a laugh as the bartender passed him and Damian their drinks. “Live a little!” he chimed, clinking his glass together with his brothers before throwing back a drink. The brunette sighed but took a drink as well. The cold walk from his apartment to the bar had sobered both men up slightly, but it almost felt like a crash more than relief. Damian not only felt tired but his stomach was giving out on him, more alcohol was the last thing he wanted, especially when there was unnecessary bass blaring in his ears.

“So,” Jason raised an eyebrow and leaned forward towards him, but his blue eyes were searching the room around them. “What are you thinking? Blondes, brunettes, exotics, _men_? What’s your poison tonight kid?”

Suppressing the burning urge to call out the Red Hood on his misogynistic and disrespectful undertones, Damian responded with barred teeth. “Surprise me.”

He didn’t even really know why he was playing into Jason’s game, he didn’t need help picking up women, he had no problem in the past, there were enough women who went to these places who were looking for a night of action, it wasn’t necessarily hard for someone who was attractive and who had money.

Jason sniffed back roughly and looked around the room, squinting his eyes slightly before finally a small smile appeared on his face. Damian followed his gaze to two young women who were standing against the wall on the other side of the room, chatting to one another. One of them was dressed in tight skinny jeans and an off the shoulder black shirt. Her auburn hair was cut into a shaggy pixie cut that fell messily across her forehead. The other girl was clad in olive green overcoat; underneath she was wearing a black skirt, thick looking tights and a white shirt. Her dark hair was long and was tied into one messy braid that fell to one side of her body, resting just below her breast. They were both beautiful women who looked young but not too young, probably Damian’s age or slightly older.

Jason’s tongue clicked in mouth and he tipped his drink back, finishing it quickly and slamming the glass down on the counter. “Bingo.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at him, completely curious as to what he was going to do. He had seen the older man jokingly flirt a few times, but he had never seen him in serious action. It could go either one of two ways, and he was so ready for whichever that was going to be.

Unzipping his jacket quickly, Jason ran his tongue along his palm and slicked back his fringe, taking a deep breath in. “Now watch the master do what he does best.”

With that he started forward towards them, Damian snickered to himself and slowly followed. This was going to be amusing if nothing else.

Awkwardly walking in a small circle so that it seemed as though he was walking past them, Jason bumped shoulders with the short haired girl. The drink that she was loosely holding in her hands to topple forward, spilling onto the floor and both she and her friend jumped away slightly to avoid their clothes being soiled.

“Come on!” the girl hissed, turning her viperous gaze towards Jason who merely chuckled like an idiot. Damian decided it was best to keep at a distance and watched, half hoping that this would end with the raven haired man being slapped in the face.

“I’m so sorry!” Jason apologized quickly, though the smile that played on his lips didn’t seem apologetic in the least. “I must be a bit more to drink than I thought. Allow me to buy you another, please.”

“Forget it,” the short haired girl snarled, her gray eyes narrowed into slits. She was Scottish, her accent was thick. “It was just water anyhow, no need for another.”

“Water?” Jason laughed. “On a Saturday night? Let loose ladies, the night is young, let me buy you something more fun.”

“We were leaving soon,” the other girl chipped in less aggressively than her counterpart. Her voice was softer and she had more of a London accent. “It’s fine.”

“That’s too bad; I would have loved to chat with two beautiful young women like yourselves.”

Jason’s lips pulled into a sincere looking smile, though Damian knew it was fake. He peered at them over his drink, taking the sweet liquid into his mouth, anticipating the situation to go south at any moment. The master Jason had called himself. Ha.

The Scottish girl crossed her arms over what little chest she had, pursing her red glossed lips. “And what makes you think we have any interest chatting with an old creep like you?”

Right away, Jason’s confidence slipped and his brows furrowed. “First of all, I am not a creep. And second, I am not old! What is with you people, _I’m thirty one_!”

“Yeah, well, in case you haven’t noticed the crowd in here, it’s mostly twenty five and below. You’re a wee bit over the mark there, don’t you think?”

Jason laughed despite himself, throwing his hands on his hips. “Got a little bit of an attitude there don’t you...” he paused, hesitating on the fact that her name remained a mystery. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before shooting her nose in the air.

“Ceitidh McClellan.”

“Now there’s a strapping Scott’s name if I’ve ever heard one.” His fake accent was horrendous and caused the girl to scowl. Damian seethed back a breath. As much as he loved where this was going, he would probably need to cut in soon. “You got a bit of an attitude there Ceitidh McClellan, and I’m starting to see why you’re standing over here alone.”

“Maybe it’s to stay clear of weirdo men who are trying to prey on women who just want to have a relaxing night out with their girl friends. Sorry to break to it you love, but not every girl is out for an easy one-off.”

“I was just trying to be gentlemen. I don’t know how you do it here, but back in America we-”

Quickly clapping her hands together, Ceitidh turned, wide eyed towards her friend, her lips pulling over her teeth in a smile. “Oh that explains it...he’s _American_.”

Jason frowned as she turned back to face him, smiling snidely.

“Come on Piper, let’s get out of here.”

Before they could take even one step, Jason jumped in front of them, eyebrows narrowed flat over his eyes, the bridge of his nose scrunching slightly.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that me being an asshole has little to do with the fact that I’m American, it’s just who I am. I own that shit.” He spat, taking a step closer to the redhead, towering over her small frame. “What’s your excuse for being a stuck up cunt?”

His feet moved without him telling them to, and before anyone had time to say anything else, Damian was grabbing Jason’s upper arm and pulling him back slightly, nodding at the two girls.

“Please excuse my brother,” he told them but narrowed his eyes at Jason. “He was hit on the head a few times when he was younger and it crippled his ability to have normal social interactions.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Look who’s talking.” He mumbled quietly, but Damian ignored and continued.

“Forgive him if he’s offended you in any way. We’ll be leaving, _now_.”

Tightening his grip on Jason’s arm he began to pull him away, hissing under his breath. “I thought you were going to show me how to pick up women, not assault them.”

“You really think you could do any better, Mr. I-could-kill-you-with-a-paperclip.”

“Wait a minute!” a voice called from behind them and they both stopped walking, turning their heads over their shoulders. The two girls had followed them a few steps, both of them crossing their arms tightly over their chests. The four young adults looked at each other for a moment until Ceitidh sighed loudly.

“You seem normal enough and this one promised us a drink.” She turned her attention to Jason and smirked. “The nights young, remember?”

 

*******

 

Of course Jason had made Damian slip him a few bills to make it look like he had the money to provide the drinks for the two women as well as himself, soiling what little was left of the twenty one year old's decent mood. Since he was sobering, he took it upon himself to order one more rum and coke, but knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to bring himself to the level of drunk he had been earlier with the wine, especially since he knew all too well that bartenders tended to water down any alcoholic drink they provided to customers in an attempt to make them buy more. It was sneaky; the main reason why he opted for scotch.

Placing his drink down on the counter he looked to his side where Jason stood, his arms moving animatedly while he spoke to Ceitidh. By the looks on their faces, they looked like they were arguing about something, but Damian could not hear over the chatter of other bar goers and the music. Luckily he had been able to grab a stool at the counter, so he could just sit alone and focus on his own thoughts; he didn’t have to concern himself with their banter.

“Can I sit here?” a loud but gentle voice asked from behind him. Turning his head over the opposite shoulder, he saw Piper standing there with her own drink in her hands, her brown eyes furrowed at him. He shrugged and she sat on the stool beside him. “Something tells me this isn’t really your scene?”

“Not really.” He agreed before taking a large drink of his rum and coke.

“Us either. But it’s my birthday weekend, so...we thought we’d do something different.”

“Happy birthday.”

There was absolutely no emotion in his voice but it made her smile anyway. Her eyes shifted behind him towards the other two members of their party as she took the straw of her drink between her lips and took a quick sip.

“Are you really brothers? You look nothing alike.”

Damian’s eyes shifted ahead. He really hated idle chit chat. Usually when he picked up women there would not be so much conversing. Conversation led to emotional attachment, and he didn’t want that in the least. He knew, of course, that this girl was just trying to be friendly while her friend was busy being ransacked by Jason Todd, but it didn’t make it more enjoyable for him.

“He’s adopted,” he sighed. “Fortunately.”

Piper gave a hoarse laugh and took another drink. Looking down for a moment at the ice cubes in his glass, Damian stayed silent for a few beats but then turned slightly in his seat towards her.

“How do you know mouthy?” he asked.

“We go to uni together. Not the same program of course, I’m a history major; she’s studies law and gender studies, neither of which ever really interested me. Not that I don’t think that they are important...but history is definitely my strong suit.”

Great. The girl liked to talk. Her fast paced rambling almost reminded him of Stephanie, just without the quirky charm.

“We’re roommates, you see.” she continued.

“Cool.”

Giving Damian a look, the girl leaned her head to the side, her braid falling over her shoulder.

“You’re not very chatty, are you?”

“No.”

She paused. “What brings you to London? Vacation?”

“I live here.”

Feeling the sudden presence of someone behind him, Damian turned his head just in time to see Ceitidh stomping past him, coming to a stop beside Piper, her gray eyes narrowed. Jason, who walked less aggressively behind her, stopped behind Damian and leaned one elbow on his shoulder. The younger man tried to lean forward to shoo him away but he merely leaned with him.

“Are you almost finished your drink? If I have to spend two more seconds talking to-” she turned and looked at Jason. “What’s your name again?”

He smiled. “Jason Todd.”

“Right. If I have to spend two more seconds talking to gabby ol’Jason Todd, I’m going to stab someone in the eye.”

“It’s no picnic talking to you either, sweet cheeks.” Jason fired back calmly causing her eyes to narrow further.

“Correction, I’m going to stab _him_ in the eye!”

Piper sighed and shot her friend a gaze. “Ceitidh, be nice. He did buy us a drink.”

“That’s right, Ceitidh, I did buy you a drink,” Jason smirked, holding his glass in the air as if he were about to make a toast. “You’re welcome.”

“I hate you.” Ceitidh snarled. Piper rolled her eyes and pushed past her friend, holding her hand out first to the older man, he looked at it for a moment before taking it in his own and shaking firmly.

“By the way, my name is Piperel Masson, but everyone calls me Piper.” She said with a smile.

“Well you already know me, Jason Todd. This here is my little bro, Damian Wa-”

“Grayson.” Damian interrupted, quickly and loudly, turning in his seat. “My name is Damian Grayson.”

Jason stared at him for a moment, one eye twitching slightly before his lips pressed into a thin smile. “Damian Grayson.” He confirmed with a nod.

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” She smiled. “Where in America are you from?”

Brushing his knuckles proudly against his chest, Jason blew out a single breath and was about to answer when Damian cut in, completely deadpanned.  
“Gotham City.”

Ceitidh who had just finished throwing back the entirety of her drink snorted out a laugh. “Oooh,” she smiled snidely. “Gotham City! Did you ever see Batman?”

Damian and Jason gave each other a quick look, both of them breaking into a slight smile, but it was Jason who spoke first this time.

“Once or twice.” He said with a faint laugh to his tone. Ceitidh looked at Piper with pursed lips, her eyes wide with phony excitement.

“You hear that Pipe? They’ve see Batman, how impressive.”

“Batman’s okay,” Jason agreed with a nod, quickly finishing his drink and leaning over Damian to place it on the counter. “But the real gem Gotham has to offer is the Red Hood.”

  
“Who?” both girls asked in unison. It almost made Damian laugh, but he suppressed it. Jason frowned.

“Red Hood? You know...the devilishly handsome prince of the city; fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight. All that jazz.”

“Sounds fake.” Ceitidh spat.

“Believe it when I say, he’s real. I can assure you that.”

As soon as Jason was finished speaking, the sound of police sirens whizzed past the building, Damian turned to look at the window just in time to see the red and blue lights flashing. Jumping to his feet, he pressed himself in between Piper and Ceitidh, stepping away from them and buttoning his coat.

“Forgive me.” He said before rushing to the exit. The two girls watched after him, dumbfounded for a moment. Jason sighed and zipped up his own jacket.

“Sorry ladies; must be the flu. That time of year.”

Bowing his head he ran off after the younger man, rushing out into the cold, staggering slightly as he went. The street was busy, filled with party-goers who were winding down for the night; it took him a moment to recognize the back of Damian’s jacket jumping into an ally. He followed as quickly as he could.

“This crime better be worth me not getting some. Anne of Green Gables back there was a bitch; I didn’t buy her a drink for nothing.” Jason growled, stepping into the shadows.  
He watched as Damian quickly shucked off his jeans and sweater, revealing himself already dressed in his Phoenix uniform.

“I bought them, remember.” He said, pulling out a red mask from his pocket and pressing it tightly against the bridge of his nose. Jason’s eyebrows rose; even in the dark of the ally he could see the shine of the polished, gold armour.

“I thought you said the uniform was in your closet.”

“I lied.”

And with that, he dashed into the shadows.

 

********

 

It was around four AM by the time Jason and Damian returned to his apartment. It had turned out that the police were after a simple break and entry case; some drunken teenagers trying to find the wrong kind of thrill. Imaging their surprise when the Phoenix, guardian of the night appeared. He had scared the absolute living shit out of them, a great way to make them not do it again. Jason of course had been too impaired to help in any way, so he stayed behind, freezing in the ally, something he didn’t fail to remind Damian at least five times on their way home.

Upon entering the warmth of the small living space, Jason immediately went over to the couch and flopped down, his feet dangling off the end of it. Damian’s head spun; both from the alcohol, and from fatigue he was sure. He wanted to go to sleep and he hoped he could.

“Do you have an extra pillow and a blanket?” Jason mumbled the question, his voice drained. Damian didn’t answer, shutting the door loudly behind him as he entered his room. Jason sighed and placed a hand over his face. He shouldn’t have expected anything more from him he guessed.

“Grayson? Really?” he yelled after him.

Again, no answer. It was time for sleep. They both needed it.


	4. Chapter 4

It only took two days of Jason being there for Damian to remember why he preferred living alone. From the moment he awoke every morning he felt as though he was watching an impulsive needy toddler. And yes, he realized that Jason was, in his own way, trying to get him off of his ass and live his life the way any young adult should. But he didn’t need to be going to see the sights of England, or hunting down women every evening. He didn’t want that. There was only one woman he was interested in finding and that was Neferti, so even though Jason continued to insist they hit the town every night, Damian would let him go off on his own instead and would stay behind to do his own research.

It was Wednesday morning when Damian decided to go back to the London Library, for about the fiftieth time to see if there was anything new added to their records. He quickly got out of bed and dressed himself, the sickening scent of bacon drifting underneath his door and into his nostrils. It was clear his dear older brother was awake.

Pulling the door open slowly, he wrinkled his nose, peaking over at the kitchen, his wild mop of hair sticking out in every direction. Jason was at the stove, poking at a sizzling pan with a large wooden spatula with one hand and tipping a beer bottle back with the other. He turned around upon hearing the bedroom door open, pulling the bottle away from his lips with a solid pop.

“New look?” he asked after a moment of hesitation, his eyes flicking towards Damian’s hair. The brunette snarled silently and sat at the kitchen table, ignoring the comment.

“Bacon.” Damian said in a tone that made it unclear if it was a statement or a question. Jason looked down at the pan and took another drink.

“Breakfast of champions. I was out all night and took the liberty of buying groceries this morning on my way home. You’re welcome.”

“I don’t eat bacon.”

Jason looked over his shoulder, looking at the younger man like he had just sprouted a second and perhaps third head.

“Well that’s shitty, because I bought almost thirty dollars worth. I didn’t think it would all fit in your freezer. I used _your_ money, by the way.”

The grease in the pan spit loudly and caused him to pull his arm away defensively, his beer spilling slightly at the sudden movement. He looked down at the spill and cursed, raising his hand to his mouth and licking away some of the liquid.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Why are you drinking at nine o’clock in the morning?”

Jason shrugged, pursing his lips ever so slightly. “Why _aren’t_ you drinking at nine o’clock in the morning?”

“It’s Wednesday...”

“Really?” Jason questioned, his eyes slowly shifting up to the ceiling as if he were thinking deeply. “And here I thought it was Tuesday.”

Damian’s thick brows fell flat over his eyes when the older man smiled at him smugly, prodding once again at the bacon. After a moment Jason shook his head, his perfectly jelled hair flouncing a bit, and he held up the bottle so his brother could clearly see it.

“Hair of the dog, buddy-boy. Give it a try sometime, it works.”

Sighing roughly, Damian stood up and walked to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush from the holder. He quickly brushed his teeth and fixed his hair, brushing it thoroughly and gelling his fringe back, noticing that a large scoop of his gel was missing. God, he loved having a roommate.

Once he had finished, he rushed out of the bathroom and head right over to the door, quickly pulling his boots on and grabbing his coat from the entry closet. Jason, who was now pouring his pan full of bacon onto a plate, looked over at him.

“Where are you going?” he asked curiously.

“The library.”

“I thought you said you’ve already searched them all?”

Damian began to wrap his scarf around his neck, making sure that every inch of skin was safe from the cold outside. “I want to see if I missed anything.”

“I can guarantee you, you didn’t.”

“I guess we’ll know for sure soon enough, won’t we?”

Damian nodded at him once and pulled the door open, fleeing outside into the hallway.

It was snowing lightly outside, just enough to dust the streets with a thin layer of white powder, though it was clear that it wouldn’t last, it never did. It was enough to put a bone piercing chill in the air however, luckily the walk to the station was not far from Damian’s apartment.

He hated the train almost as much as he hated sharing his apartment. He missed his car, his bike.

It took thirty minutes to arrive at the library; he had searched this one the least amount of times out of all of them that the city had to offer so there was at least a sliver a hope residing within him. Quickly he headed for the sections he knew would offer the information he was looking for; history, culture, religion, mythology, even geography, he managed to find a few books that had been newly added to the collection and picked them up, nesting himself in a far quiet corner to read.

By the time he had finished flipping through the pages of the books, the sun had begun to set, illuminating through the libraries windows in a glorious pink glow. Frustration filled the young being more now than ever. Five years he had been searching for clues, five years he had dedicated his life to figuring out details about the Krv Amyh-Pa and the most he had ever been able to find was a small blurb in one of the mythology books about the organization. It was said to have been founded in the third dynasty by a priest who believed he and a number of followers were descendants of the Egyptian God of the sun, Ra; and that was it. There were no details, no name for the priest, though Damian had ciphered it down to being the high priest Imhotep. But even books or articles about him did not mention the organization. He had once again found himself at a dead end.

Bundling himself up again, Damian left the library only to find Jason hovering outside, a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Deciding to brush aside the fact that he had found him without knowing which library he would be at, Damian jumped right into the sob story.

“I didn’t find anything.”

“Shocker.” Jason snickered as the two began to walk down the sidewalk. “You hungry?”

“No, but I should eat.”

 

******

 

“I’m telling you,” Jason sputtered through a mouthful of French-fries. The two were seated at a small booth in the warmth of a pub; a plate of half devoured fish and chips and a beer in front of Jason, and a hot bowl of vegetarian stew and a glass of sherry in front of Damian. “It’s time to let this go. Neferti is as gone as yesterday and this whole Krv Amyh-Pa business...for all you know might have been all in her head.”

“It wasn’t.” Damian said dryly, shaking his head, his green eyes staring into the depth of his stew.

“How do you know?” Jason spat, picking up a few more fries. “The woman obviously had a few screws loose; she wanted to sacrifice you to bring back an army of zombies for crying out loud!”

“I’ve visited museums from Scotland to Amsterdam to Egypt itself in the past five years,” Damian mumbled in monotone. “I’ve seen the same plaque she showed me at the National History Museum in Gotham at almost each of those places...and she was right. The prophecy is there... in all of them.”

Jason shoved the fries into his mouth and chewed loudly, raising one strong eyebrow.

“Yeah but their replicas right?” he asked after swallowing. “Maybe they all copied an altered version that she planted. Did you see the original?”

The brunette shook his head. “No. Even the G.E.M. had a replica. When I asked the staff where the original was they said it’s been lost for years.”

“How convenient.” Jason said with a nod.

“Yeah, well...”

Damian picked up his spoon and took in a mouthful of lukewarm stew. He really should have eaten it earlier.

“I can’t let this go, Jason. Not until I find her and make her pay for what she’s done.”

Jason blinked a few times, dropping the slap of fried fish he had just picked up. Damian looked at him curiously, waiting for him to say why he had been suddenly surprised. He was sure he would.

“You just...called me _Jason_? Not Todd, not Hood, not....you.”

“Oh.” Damian thought for a minute. “Your point?”

Shaking his head the older man leaned back in his seat, crossing his bulky arms.

“No point. Just weird to hear. You really are growing up.”

“Were you under the impression that I was not? If it’s that big of a deal to you, it won’t happen again.”

Jason turned town his mouth in a sort of motionless shrug.

“Not a big deal. Like I said, just weird.” There was a short pause. “You think the leader guy might have been Imhotep, right?”

Damian leaned his head to the side, placing his spoon down. “It’s just an assumption. The timelines match.”

Jason leaned forward, his shoulders ghosting over the table as if he wanted to tell the man across from him a secret that no one else could listen to. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed but he leaned forward as well.

“Imhotep was a said to be one of the founding fathers of early medicine. Have you ever tried the Science Museum? I think there’s some sort of...ancient text or something on display there that he and his students wrote.”

Damian looked at him in shock for a solid minute. “It’s concerning that _you_ know that.”

“What? I like to read in my spare time. That so hard to believe?”

Pushing back the sleeve of his turtle neck, Damian tilted his arm so that he could clearly read the face of his watch; it read nearly quarter to seven PM. He shook his head.

“It’s already closed anyway.”

Jason smiled wickedly. “Who said it has to be open?”

 

******

 

Jason and Damian tried to be as quiet as they could as they walked through the dim corridors of the Science Museum, making sure to stay scarce from the security guards who were making their rounds; but in order to keep their identities safe in case they were seen, they both had changed into their hero uniforms, helmet, mask and all.

It did not take them long to find the location of the old text that was set behind a glass case, written on papyrus in an ancient language. Underneath of it was an English translation, but because of the darkened room and the small print, Damian’s eyes immediately landed on the original, skipping the effort of activating the night vision in his mask, his brain reeling to translate.

Jason, who stood beside him, squinted behind his helmet.

“I can’t see shit.” He mumbled before bringing his hand up and pressing a small button just about where his ear should have been. The white covering of his eyes flashed green, illuminating a stream of light at the text.

“Better.”

“It says nothing about the Krv Amyh-Pa.” Damian muttered before beginning to read the text over.

“Well, yeah. Were you expecting it to jump out and start yapping about some weirdo secret society?”

Damian ignored him, and after a moment he brought his hand out and pressed his finger against the glass.

“Do you think this is strange?” he asked quietly, causing Jason’s eyes to rise as though he too could understand. “It mentions...being able to revive people with an amulet.”

“I’ve heard stranger.” Jason said with a shrug of his shoulders. Damian shook his head.

“Everything else in this text makes sense on a scientific viewpoint. Herbal medicines and remedies, mummification...but then magic? It just seems random.”

Jason chuckled quietly. “It’s ancient Egypt. They believed cats were goddesses in disguise and birds were controlled by demons. Trust me, it’s not that strange.”

He quickly patted Damian firmly on the back and stepped away, his boots clicking quietly against the marble floor. Damian turned around, his face scrunching slightly in thought.

  
“It makes me think of Neferti...she could heal quickly, remember.”

“So?” Jason yawned. “So could your grandfather with the Lazarus Pits, and doesn’t it seem more likely that she could heal because of something her family possessed than some ancient rock?”

“You can’t move a Lazarus pit. The properties only work if you’re submerged in the water. You should know that.”

He watched as Jason nonchalantly paced the room for a moment before he stopped at a different case, leaning his back against it.

“Let’s say, for arguments sake, you’re right. Literally the only information we have on it is that they could revive people with some amulet. Where’s the amulet? What did it do exactly to revive said people? Did it have anything to do with the Krv Amyh-Pa? We have absolutely no way to find any of these answers.”

Damian thought for a moment in silence. Jason was right, they were running on very little Intel and had no idea where to go from there. He looked back at the text for a moment, his eyes scanning over it before they dropped to the English and scanned over that as well, stopping only on the short sentence at the very end. He leaned closer to the translation, trying his best to read in the dark.

“Excerpt from the Book of the Dead.” He read quietly to himself and quickly spun to face Jason again. “Where do they keep the Book of the Dead?”

“Uhh...”Jason scratched the top of his helmet. “The British Museum...I think.” He bumped his behind into the case in order to push himself up straight, making the glass rattle slightly. “You wanna break into another place now....and...possibly steal a historic piece of literature? Since when has this turned into National Treasure?”

“Fuck,” Damian hissed under his breath, raising his hand to his mouth and chewing on his nails. “It would be too risky to steal it.”

“You know, you can easily find information on the Book of the Dead on the internet right?”

“That might have to do.” The younger man agreed. “It’s a long shot, but there’s something about this amulet that...just seems off. I want to know more about it.”

“Alright, well...you have a computer.” Jason said with a nod. “Let’s go home, crack open a cold one and read up.”

“You’ve been drinking all day...”

“Not true, I had a nap this afternoon.”

Damian stared at him blankly.

“ _Fine_.” Jason huffed, raising his hands in defeat. “I’ll just roll a joint then.”

“Tt...”

As quickly, as quietly as they could they snuck out of the building, both impressed that they had made it without even once alerting the guards.

Halfway back to Damian’s apartment from the station Jason split off from him, insisting that he wouldn’t be long and for him to go ahead, which he was going to do with or without being told to. When he arrived home, he did not even bother to take off his uniform and went straight to his laptop, opening the screen and immediately bringing up the internet to search. He was fully prepared to fall down the rabbit hole if it meant figuring out more clues. He had been an idiot not to think of the Book of the Dead before now; it was a piece of Egyptian history that held many details about ancient life, death, magic and myth. Though he worried that without the original copy information would be limited, but he would have to try.

Just as he pulled up an article however, his door barged open and in came the Red Hood, his helmet lodged between his bicep and the side of his ribcage. Damian didn’t bother looking.

“That was fast.”

“Doesn’t take long when you know what you’re looking for.”

Stomping over to him, Jason pulled out a small plastic bag and waved it in front of the younger man’s face only to be quickly swatted away.

“Look at this,” Jason chimed, tossing his helmet on the couch. “This country is great! They sell seasonal shit, this is called Jingle Bells! Smell it!”

Again he shoved it in Damian’s face, closer to his nose.

“Smells like Christmas in a goddamn baggy! You’re lucky if you don’t get MJ laced with battery acid back in Gotham.”

Damian smacked his hand away, irritated now more than ever. “Great, now get it away from me, and if you think you’re smoking it in here, you’re wrong.”

“You’re gonna make me sit out in the cold?”

“I don’t really care where you sit to be quite honest. But it won’t be in here!”

“You have a heart of ice, Damian Wayne.” Jason growled, stomping back to the door and pulling it open. “Sorry... _Grayson_.”

And with that he slipped back out into the hall and slammed the door behind him.

Shaking his head of the stupidity he had just endured, Damian went back to the article and read. The information was interesting to say the least; Imhotep, like most priests in ancient Egypt, was tied to magic, a protector of the king sent by the Gods themselves. He was a wise man and was revered by many, but there were also those who believed he was the puppeteer behind the king, pulling strings from the shadows and corrupting the kingdom with a darker magic. But according to the article, this was only a rumour spread by slaves into the ears of their weak minded captors as a way to try and escape.

Damian clicked out of the page and instead tried to look up information on this, of course there was little to be found. It was on his third article were something caught his eye; a short blurb about a book of secrets that had been passed down from king to king. Inscriptions were said to have been found in many different tombs speaking of this book, some saying it was buried with alongside of the king of the fifth dynasty, others saying that it was lost. Not much to go on, but all of these secrets were enough to make the brunette think.

The sound of blaring gunshots snapped him out of his thoughts however, and quickly Damian jumped up, rushing to the door, making sure to grab Jason’s helmet on the way out. Gunshots in London were never good.

Flying down the stairs and outside, the Phoenix spun around the building and into the alley where Jason was pressed against the brick wall, his left hand pressing into his side. His face was scrunched in pain when he turned to look at Damian.

“Bastard came out of nowhere and stole my Jingle Bells!” he groaned, lifting his hand lightly to look at it. It was covered in blood. “And stabbed me!”

Damian tilted his head and looked at the wound. By the blood flow, it didn’t look severe, it had been done by an armature. He passed Jason his helmet.

“Which way did he go?”

The older man nodded in the direction the thief had run off and quickly snapped his helmet over his head. Grunting lightly in pain, he then pushed himself away from the wall and he and Damian ran towards the direction he had fled, Jason straggling behind ever so slightly.

When they finally caught up to the man, they were both stunned to see that he was lying in the middle of the street, blood pooling around his body. The two former Robin’s stood over him, looking down.

“This him?” Damian questioned, watching as Jason bent over and dug his gloved hand into the man’s coat pocket, pulling out a small packet.

“This is him.”

“Did you shoot him?”

“I thought I missed.”

Kneeling down, the Phoenix examined the man’s body; his eyes were wide but the irises were crossed inward, his jaw was slack. He looked like a bum, not well dressed at all, but if the drugs were someone’s motive to kill him, why hadn’t they taken them?

Scanning down his body, Damian’s green eyes landed on the puncture wound that was carved right into the center of his back.

“He was stabbed.” He said quietly.

“Stabbed?” Jason repeated. “By who?”

“Me...”

Standing quickly, Damian looked behind him, Jason also turned. Behind them, on the other street was a figure, his face covered by a large hooded cape. He was dressed in a dark green ninja-esque suit, his shoulders and arms bare. Clenched in his hand was a long, thin sword. Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“Freaks like this normal here...?” he heard Jason mutter to him, but he ignored, much like he always did to the Red Hood.

“Who are you?” Damian boomed at the figure. He had left his own sword back at his apartment, if this man meant to fight then things could get ugly.

“Blood of the demon.” The man called back calmly, refusing to answer. Damian felt his bottom jaw fall slightly. He knew that name; he had heard it many times before. Widow had called him by the name; Jackal had called him by the name. This man belonged to the Krv Amyh-Pa, there was no mistaking it.

“Blood of the demon,” he said again, his voice almost sound hypnotic. “Come with me now, so that you may restore what once was broken and build what is meant to be.”

Jason leaned his head to the side, cracking his head. “Someone’s been drinking the Kool-Aid.” He chuckled before raising one of his guns towards the man. “How about instead, you tell us who you are and who sent you or I’ll start shooting?”

“He’s with the Krv Amyh-Pa.” Damian told him quietly, his eyes glued to the man, waiting for him to make some sort of move, but he remained still. “What he just said...I’ve heard it before.”

“So what do we do with him? Ask him to come quietly and interrogate?” His blue eyes shifted underneath of his helmet, staring at the man curiously. “Dudes just standing there like a deer caught in headlights...he’s freaking me out.”

Above them, perched on an electric wire, a large crow violently cawed down at them, causing both men to jump in their places, looking up quickly. Jason’s gunned hand flew to point upwards without him even realizing, until he saw the bird and relaxed.

“Jesus...”he grumbled.

Damian let out a sigh of relief and looked back to the man, but he was gone. Immediately he fell into a defensive position and looked around, trying desperately to find him again. But it was too late.

Beside him he heard Jason grunt, and the sound of flesh and leather ripping. His head whipped around and to his horror, the man was standing behind the Red Hood, his sword plunged straight through his body, blood already spilling out of the wound. The bird above them began to screech uncontrollably.

“We don’t need this one...” the man’s voice slithered from between his teeth.

Then, in an instant, everything around them froze. Damian became hot and suddenly very dizzy. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t speak, but he watched as everything began to undo itself.

The sword pulled from Jason and the wound closed up. The man ran backwards, almost in a frame by frame movement until he was once again on the other side of the street. Without moving his head on his own, Damian slowly looked back at the crow whose loud distorted bark had slowed. The wire shook as though it had just landed. And then, reality snapped back to normal. Time had just...gone back.

“What the flying fuck...”Jason gasped, his free hand flying to the spot where the sword had run through. Damian quickly looked out of the corner of his eye to see that the man was gone again; they didn’t have time to question it.

“MOVE!” he yelled and kicked Jason, causing him to fall backwards a few steps just in time to miss being hit with the sword again. The man, whose hood had fallen down from rushing over to them looked surprised, his sand coloured eyes flicking up to Damian. The younger man lunged out and struck the man square in the chest with the flat of his palm.

Jason brought his arm back up and pointed his gun at their oddly dressed attacker once again, but before he could pull the trigger, the bird swooped down, knocking the weapon from his hand.

“Are you kidding me!?” he yelled after it, bending down to pick it up.

The man jumped towards Damian and swiped his sword at his feet, trying to knock him off balance. It didn’t work and the younger man sprung backwards, clenching his fists.

“Where is Neferti?” he demanded, but the man only smiled.

“She’s only trying to save you, blood of the demon.”

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

“Crow!” a woman’s voice shouted from an alley, and all three men looked up. She was standing there, tall, shoulder length brown hair, the bird perched on the forearm that she was holding up in front of her. It wasn’t Neferti but she held some familiarity that Damian could not place. Her deep brown eyes stared at the man. “We go now.”

“Like hell you do!” Jason snapped and shot at her, but in an instant she had burst into a puff of dust, just as Neferti had been able to do. The bird quickly flew off into the night.  
The man gave a solid nod and he too vanished with a puff leaving Jason, Damian and the dead homeless man alone.

Damian’s head was pounding with confusion. The man, the time travel, the woman; what was going on and why now?

The sound of a metal bin falling over, followed by a female’s squeak in the ally made Jason point his gun into the darkness.

“Got her.” He said sternly and fired.

“Do you always just shoot without knowing what your target is?” Damian snarled, rushing over to the ally. Jason followed close behind him.

“I do if I’m angry. And right now, I’m _angry_.”

They both jogged into the shadows and up to the unconscious woman whom they had heard. Jason turned on night vision to his helmet and allowed the light steams to point down at her. She was dressed in a tight, lilac spandex suit that was equipped with pouches and straps, her dark hair covering her face, but showed just enough of her forehead to expose a large wound on her skin. There seemed to be no more blood coming from her however, which meant Jason’s bullet had not hit her, she had knocked herself out.

The Red Hood shrugged, his hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Well...I didn’t do it.”

Damian knelt down beside her and tilted her head, trying to see the wound better but her thick hair was in the way. As carefully as he could, as to not put dirt into the wound, he brushed her hair aside and both men froze. They knew her, only days ago they had met her at a bar with her friend, she was the quiet one, the one who tried to speak to Damian, though he could not remember her name. Why she happened to be in the ally where a Krv Amyh-Pa member had come from and was dressed in a suit that resembled either a hero or a psycho villain, remained a mystery and would until she was able to talk.

A laugh broke through Jason’s throat. “Okay...that was unexpected.”

Taking a deep breath, Damian shimmied his arms under her and picked her up, struggling a bit to stand up straight again.

“We’ll take her back to my apartment. Ask her what she knows. She could be a part of the Krv Amyh-Pa.”

“I’m definitely gonna need that joint.” Jason sniggered as they began to walk. “Mind patching me up, by the way? My side’s killing me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter this week guys, I am sorry! 
> 
> I have been quite busy with work as of late, and I have a few other projects on the go! Next chapter should be regular length again :) 
> 
> I haven't been hearing much feedback for this sequel and it worries me slightly ! Please let me know what you guys are thinking :) Do you like the direction of where Damian's story is headed? What do you think? Please let me know if you can! It would be great for me to know what my readers think. 
> 
> Also....
> 
> Is anyone watching Game of Thrones??? It's an emotional and wild time right now also xD

Damian’s eyes had barely moved from the mystery woman all night as he sat in the small, wooden chair at the foot of his bed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The only time he had let his guard down at all in fact was the few times he found himself drifting off, which wouldn’t normally be for very long as he would jerk himself awake each time. She had to have hit her head decently hard; when he was disinfecting the wound the night before he could already see the large bruise forming. Not that he felt bad for her yet, for now he had no idea whose side she was on.

Over the past few hours his weary mind had been rushing through options, trying to figure out why this girl was in the ally when she was and if their meeting had anything to do with the sudden appearance of the Krv Amyh-Pa. The only thing he had been able to accomplish in remembering was her name, Piper, but beyond that she was enigma. Perhaps she was a spy or a follower and had told them of his whereabouts, perhaps it was her that had rewound time after Jason was stabbed. He realized he couldn’t be sure of any answer until she was awake, but he hated waiting.

His eyes drifted closed for about the tenth time when he finally heard a small groan. Quickly becoming alert, he saw that she was moving, her dark eyes batting open slowly, her face scrunching with pain. Piper pushed herself up into a sitting position in his bed, quickly becoming aware that she was in a strange environment and she looked around, her gaze landing on him.

“You?” she gasped, confusion coating her words. “You’re the lad from the bar?”

If she was playing games she was doing a good job, she truly did sound surprised. Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right.” he confirmed.

“What’s going on? Where am I? Why I are you-” her words fell short when her eyes landed on his partly opened closet. Turning his head, Damian looked as well and could see that the arm of his uniform could be seen. He would be lying to himself if he had said he tried his best to hide it, he had assumed that she knew who he was both as Phoenix and as Damian, there was no need to keep it a secret. But the way her face turned pale made him question his decision and when she turned to him with wide yes, he almost regretted it. “You’re the Phoenix...?”

Damian hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Again, correct.” He swallowed. “Now, I want to know who _you_ are.”

Piper shook her head, her eyebrows scrunching together before she pulled the covers off of her and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Damian jumped to his feet and rushed over to her, throwing his hands up to prevent her from walking past him.

“I need to go!” she snapped, her tone a strange mixture of fear, confusion and angst. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and why you were lurking around last night! Do you belong to the Krv Amyh-Pa? Did Neferti send you?”

“Nef-who? What are you talking about?”

She pushed him away from her slightly when his hands landed on her shoulders, trying to secure her into place.

“I heard gunshots on my way home from work and I went to see if everything was okay, that’s it.”

“In a leotard?”

Piper’s eyes widened quickly and looked down at herself. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a white, over sized t-shirt that clearly belong to a man. Quickly her arms shot up to cover her chest as though she was exposed to him and her expression quickly turned to anger.

“You...you changed my clothes?” she hissed. Damian rolled his eyes.

“I was hardly going to let you on my bed with the filthy thing you had on. I-”

Before he could finish, her palm came in clear contact with his cheek, hitting him so hard that his head whipped to the side. Reaching his hand up he touched his stinging skin and clenched his teeth. To her, it may have seemed like something perverted, but he was far from a predator. He had changed her clothes so that she wouldn’t wake up dirty out of consideration for her; he had done nothing indecent and had barely even shot her a second glance.

Realizing that explaining this would be futile however, he decided to let it go.

“Perhaps I deserved that.” He mumbled, turning back towards her. “But I can assure you, I am above performing improper advancements on unconscious women.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Piper tried to walk around him but he stepped in front of her again.

“I need you to tell me who you are and whether or not you’re allied with Neferti.”

“And I need you to _back up_.” The girl threatened tightly, her eyes narrowed up at him. “I have no idea who this Neferti person is.”

“I have been looking for her and her people for almost five years now, I meet you and suddenly they show up not a week later. Forgive me for being skeptical.”

Dark amber clashed with myrtle for a moment until finally the girl inhaled deeply through her nose.

“I know that seems...odd...but believe me. I don’t have anything to do with them.”

“Then why were you there last night?”

Her eyes looked away. “I told you. I heard the gunshots so I went to see if everything was okay, and honestly I’m glad I did because if I hadn’t your brother would have been shish kebobbed.”

Damian blinked and relaxed his shoulders. “So it was you who turned back time? How?”

“I have....abilities.” Piper’s voice was hushed, as though she was trying to prevent anyone else from hearing her. “I can manipulate time; turn it back, turn it forward, stop it.”

“For how long?”

“Only a matter of seconds; ten at most. It’s something I was born with, some sort of gene passed down from my mother’s side of the family. I’ve spent years trying to figure out exactly what kind of gene, but I haven’t been able to find much. ”

A pause filled the air as Damian thought about it for a moment. Unique powers weren’t unheard of, especially for someone who was knowledgeable about the superhero population, but time manipulation was rare, he had only ever heard of a few people who possessed it.

Piper continued speaking before Damian could say anymore. “Sometimes I walk around at night to see if I can help people. I know I really can’t do much but...I like to feel useful.”

She tried to smile.

“Well,” Damian cleared his throat. He still didn’t trust her, it just seemed too convenient for her to be there, but for now she at least seemed harmless. “It was fortunate that you were there when you were, but why haven’t I seen or heard of you before? You’ve heard of me.”

“I like to keep a low profile.”

A pause.

“Did you happen to see where that woman came from? The one with the bird?”

Piper shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry, no. She just...came out of nowhere really.”

Damian nodded. He had figured as much, it was dark and they had the power to poof in and out at any time they pleased like a fairy godmother. Of course she hadn’t seen anything.

“Are you Egyptian?” Piper asked, completely out of the blue. Damian gave her a look. “Sorry...if I’m being ignorant. You just mentioned the Krv Amyh-Pa earlier...and you’re....”  
She blushed slightly, her dark eyes shifting away. He knew she was talking about his skin colour and dominant Arabic features; she just didn’t know how to word it without sounding rude, which he didn’t think she was at all anyhow.

“My mother was from Oman, but our family has roots.” He sighed before furrowing his brows. “You know of the Krv Amyh-Pa?”

She nodded her head, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I studied Egyptian history in my second year of uni.”Her eyes widened. “Crap! What time is it?”

Damian glanced down at his watch. “Nearly ten.”

“Crap!” Piper cried, pushing past him towards the door. “I have an exam at half ten. I need to go!”

She pulled the door open and fled into the living room, Damian quick at her heels. Every fiber of his being was being thrown into panic mode, he didn’t want her to leave, what he wanted was to ask her more questions. It was a long shot but perhaps she had read something during her studies that he had missed.

Jason was lounging on the couch watching TV, his legs lying out beside him. He looked up.

“Can I get you anything before you leave? Something to eat, something to drink?” Damian suggested quickly as she rushed over to the entrance and began pulling her boots on.

“I really should be going now, I’m sorry.” She apologized and yanked open the door. “Thank you though, for making sure I didn’t freeze to death last night.”

And with that, she stepped out, shutting the door behind her. Damian stood there for a moment just staring at the door.

“I haven’t seen a girl leave that fast since Bruce caught Dick and Bab’s porking each other in the bat-cave when we were kids.” Jason snickered, turning back to the TV. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing.” Damian responded sharply, turning on his heels and dragging himself over to the couch. He hovered beside Jason but did not look at him; instead his distracted gaze fell to the floor in front of the couch. Jason’s blue eyes shifted up to look at him.

“You...okay?”

“Do you remember where she said she went to school?” the brunette asked, ignoring the older man’s question.

“I don’t know,” Jason shrugged. “I wasn’t really listening.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

Damian stomped over to the living room window and brushed the bland curtains aside, peeking out into the street.

“You have a way of tracking people, correct?” he questioned quietly. “Can you see where she’s going?”

“Not unless one of us stealthily put a tracker on her when no one was looking.”

“You’ve tracked me before with no issue.”

“Yeah. Cause’ I stealthily put a tracker on you when no one was looking.”

Jason’s lips pressed into a smile but his eyes remained unemotional. Damian looked back at him for a split moment, debating questioning him further but deciding against it. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

 

********

 

Damian stood from the bench he and Jason were seated on just outside of the main campus building of the University of London. After taking the gamble that this was indeed the school Piper had run off to, the two bothers went together to wait, hoping desperately that their guess was correct. They sat in the cold for who knew how long; enough time for Jason to almost blow through an entire pack of cigarettes, until finally a large pile of students evacuated the building, their relieved voices and expressions a sure-fire giveaway that they had indeed just finished an exam.

Damian’s green eyes narrowed slightly as he searched through the crowd, looking for a familiar face but it was Jason who managed to find it first.

“ There they are.” He said with a nod, also getting to his feet. Damian turned his head slightly and sure enough, around the back of the crowd was Piper and Ceitidh, both of them lost in conversation. Without a word Damian rushed into the crowd, pushing his way roughly past the students until he reached the girls. Upon seeing him they both stopped walking and looked up in shock. Piper’s lips pressed into a frown.

“You’re from the other night,” Ceitidh stated harshly. “What are you stalking us?”

“I need to speak with Piper. Immediately.”

Piper’s chocolate orbs looked into Damian’s for a moment. He could feel from her expression how uncomfortable the sudden encounter had made her, but he cared little. The redhead gaped at him for a moment before turning to her friend, the thick fur of her whit earmuffs blowing slightly in the breeze. Piper finally sighed and shook her head.

“It’s fine Ceitidh.” She said in a whisper. “We ran into each other the other day and didn’t get to finish an important conversation. I’ll be fine.”

She smile at her friend before receiving a solid nod, and the short haired girl walked towards the bench Damian had been sitting on only seconds before, brushing roughly past Jason who was on his way over to the other two.

When she was out of earshot, Piper’s brows furrowed. “What do you want?”

“I want to know more about you. Who are you exactly, or what are you? How did you get your powers and how have you stayed in the shadows for so long?”

Crossing her arms in order to shelter her from the nip in the air Piper shifted in her spot.

“Why are you so interested in me?” she asked.

“You’re a superhero that no one even knew existed.” Jason cut in, looking down at her. “That’s not necessarily an easy thing to hide if you’re walking around rewinding time on people.”

“I’m not a superhero. I’m just a girl with abilities...and there are plenty of people in the world with abilities that go unnoticed.” Piper said, trying to defend herself.

“We don’t know those people.” Damian said cooling.

“You don’t know me either! I’m just a girl you met at a pub.”

Piper side stepped around the young men and nodded her head. “Now if you don’t mind, we were just off to lunch.”

She tried to walk towards Ceitidh, but Damian’s hand shot out and he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. Immediately Ceitidh, who had been watching jumped up from her seat and stomped over.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” she barked. Damian pulled the girl closer to him, his large hand curling slightly tighter around her thin arm.

“Look, I need you to tell me everything you can about the Krv Amyh-Pa.” He murmured, his eyes glued to hers. Her expression was slightly concerned, but she nudged bravely away from him, pulling her arm free from his grasp. “It’s important.”

“Excuse me!” Ceitidh shouted when Damian didn’t acknowledge her, but Jason stepped in front of her, preventing her from going further towards the younger of the two men. She looked up at him with crazed eyes but he only smiled.

“Easy tiger.” He chuckled.

Taking a deep breath Piper shook her head. “It’s fine Ceit.” She looked at Damian. “What exactly do you want to know?”

 

*********

 

“You’re good at keeping secrets. Is that really what you’re going to go with?” Damian questioned, irritation rising in the pit of his stomach. His green eyes looked towards Jason and Ceitidh who were at the counter of the McDonald's, ordering their own food. He could see that they were fighting, like usual.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Piper sighed. “Usually people aren’t aware that time has been manipulated when I help them. I don’t know why you and your brother could feel it, or remember.”

“You ask everyone you ‘ _help_ ’, do you? If they felt it, or remember?”

“Well...no.”

Damian rolled his eyes.

“But no reports have been made, so I can only assume that they haven’t.”

“You should never assume anything.”

Piper didn’t say anything and instead looked over her shoulder towards the other two. Damian followed her gaze.

“Does she know?” he asked quietly. “About your abilities.”

Piper nodded once. “I trust her.” was her response. Damian leaned his head to the side. He knew that trust was something that should not be given lightly, it was something that needed to be earned, and even then it was wise to remain alert. For all he knew, Ceitidh didn’t seem to have any powers, she was a civilian. Bringing civilians into any situation like this was a tricky matter. But then again he wasn’t even entirely sure if he could trust Piper herself. He too was taking a gamble.

“Well that took fucking forever.” Jason huffed, plopping down into the seat beside Damian, placing the tray he was holding on the table and passing out the coffee cups. Ceitidh sat across from him. “The food better be worth the wait. I’m starving.”

“It’s McDonald's; do you really expect that much?” Ceitidh snarled.

“Maybe if you actually got the good food, instead of a salad you’d think otherwise. You’re almost as bad as this one.” He patted Damian on the back, almost making him choke on his coffee.

“Sorry that the idea of eating flesh doesn’t appeal to me in the least.”

“Mm,” Jason took a large bite of his burger. “ _Flesh_.”

Ceitidh made a face before turning her attention to the other two. “So what is all of this about then?”

Piper ran her tongue between her lips and thought for a moment. “Damian was curious about my abilities.”

Ceitidh’s eyebrows furrowed so deeply with question that her forehead became a sea of wrinkles. Piper blushed slightly and shook her head.  
“I was out last night and...assisted him and his brother.”

“That doesn’t make it any of his business.” Ceitidh snapped defensively. “You’ve assisted many people before. You don’t owe him anything.”

Piper and Damian exchanged looks and he took a deep breath.

“It’s important that I know.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because, I need to know if I can trust her.”

“He thinks that I have information that can help...with something.” Piper cut in quietly.

“What information could be possibly want?”

“That’s not your concern.” Damian deadpanned, sick of the fact that she was speaking as though he was not in the room. Ceitidh looked at him. “Not now, at least.”

“He’s interested in an ancient Egyptian secret society.” Piper spoke up, her eyebrows falling flat as Damian shot her a look. “One that was probably just a myth to begin with.”

“There’s always at least a little bit of truth in myth, isn’t there?” Jason said before stuffing the rest of his burger into his mouth. All three of the others looked at him and silence fell over the table. He shrugged.

“I just need you to tell me anything you can.” Damian huffed, looking back at Piper. “Names, locations, dates. _Anything_.”

Piper shook her head. “I honestly don’t know much. It was something I only brushed over during our Egyptian unit.

Damian sat back in his seat and grunted as though he were annoyed with her response, causing her to frown.

“I’m sorry but...why is this so important to you?”

“Telling you that won’t make a difference if you can’t help me.”

Another silence surrounded the young adults and Piper’s dark eyes shifted down at her untouched food. Damian was wasting his time with her, that had become apparent. He was pushed by wishful thinking that she would be able to help, he should have known better than to be so uncharacteristically naive.

Piper stared at him for a long while before swallowing hard.

“I can...take a look at my notes and see if I wrote something down that I’m now forgetting. Maybe see if I credited references.”

Damian squinted his eyes at her. “How long will that take?”

“God you’re impatient! She said she’d help you, just leave it at that!” Ceitidh snapped resulting in Jason kicking her lightly under the table. She shot him a death glare.

Piper ignored her and responded to the younger man. “I’m not sure. That was...a year and a half ago. I need to find my unit notes. They’re somewhere in our flat.”

“We’ll come with you and help you look.” Damian said, standing from his seat and quickly downing his coffee. Both girls looked at him, shock covering their faces.

“Erm...my rooms a bit messy right now,” Piper squeaked, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “I would really rather we-”

Damian walked away, bringing his full tray of food to the garbage and dumping it in. He had survived living with Stephanie Brown for a week; he doubted anything could be any messier than her apartment had been. Quickly, all three other members of his party got up and followed.

“It’s very rude to invite yourself into someone else’s home!” the short haired girl pointed out, aggressively.

“And it could take all night to find anything!” Piper added as they all left the restaurant into the cold. “I’m not exactly organized when it comes to my files...”

“Great!” Jason laughed. “I love sleepovers! I get to tell the first ghost story. I have the perfect one. It’s about this guy who got beaten to death with a crowbar, but then came back to life and-”

“Save it.” Damian hissed. Jason nodded.

“Good idea. It’ll be a lot freakier at night.”

“Does he ever stop talking?” Ceitidh asked, her top lip curling slightly. Jason laughed but Damian shook his head.

“Unfortunately. No.”


End file.
